


Soft

by MooseFeels



Series: Shameless [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Genderbending, Nudity, Rule 63, Stripping, Wincestiel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-22 05:24:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/909421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MooseFeels/pseuds/MooseFeels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel looks so different from them, but she's so beautiful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Castiel has a way of leaving the bathroom door open when she changes clothes and brushes her teeth and showers.

Dean has been thinking for weeks of ways to address this with her. “Look,” she’ll imagine saying, “it’s just not polite. It’s not...manners.” But Dean knows that Castiel will then think of a way to talk about how Dean isn’t too mannerly herself- her foul language and her drinking and her way of howling along to lyrics, her voice fighting to scrape into that lower register.

Honestly, if anyone could present a case for Cas shutting the bathroom door, it would be Sam, but Dean doesn’t know how to approach her sister with that. Especially because she’s seen Sam staring, too.

Castiel bends at the waist as she she digs a toothbrush out of the bag. She’s taken off her skirt and her pantyhouse, wearing only the long sleeved dress shirt Jimmi had been wearing when Cas possessed her.

Her soft, grey cotton panties ride up a little bit along her wide, soft bottom, revealing a little more of that plush, pale skin. She come back up gracefully, like a round dancer, and catches Dean’s eye. She smiles a little- barely a quirk upward of her red, full mouth.

Sam and Dean are both good looking, in their own atheletic way. Dean looks and appears as masculine as her name- her tits are barely little handfuls attached to her chest, the nipples perky and dancing. Her butt is small- curved, but small. Her waist is long, no serious cuve inward. Muscular and hard, except for a little squish at her belly. Sam is tall- six feet two inches tall, to be exact- and her curves get lost in the sheer length of her body. Her breasts are much larger than Dean’s, and her bottom is a good deal more present, but it’s so proportional to her size that she doesn’t look as soft. She looks as serious as her thick biceps.

Jimmi must have lived some sort of soft, city life though, because she’s gorgeous. Her waist nips heavily inward, and her hips and chest flare outward grandiosely- this beautiful hourglass of soft, pale skin. Her breasts are soft and heavy on her chest, straining the buttons on her shirt. Round thighs that hide the muscle inside with a plush layer of warm fat, the shape of them closing over that vee- the treasure between her legs.

Castiel is beautiful, and she lacks the knowledge that maybe she should be ashamed of being so generously shaped- so round and juicy and beautiful. She hides nothing, shameless and perfect. This sumptuous Bathsheba brushing her teeth in the bathroom, single dainty foot scratching the back of her calf.

Dean swallows dryly.

Cas has been falling slowly, and this isn’t the first time she’s had to freshen up, but it is the first time she unbuttons her shirt and looks down and says, “Dean, could you help me with this?”

The bra is a deep blue color- the color of her eyes. Her breasts peer up out of the cups a little bit. A tiny bow hangs at the bridge of it. Soft and sweet and beautiful.

Dean nods, dumbly and runs her hands through her short hair before walking over.

“Um,” she says softly, clearing her throat. “Sorry if my...if my hand are cold.”

Castiel nods and turns around.

“Could you hold your hair up?” Dean asks. “I can’t see the closure.”

Castiel reaches back and pulls her long dark hair around to the front, revealing the bright blue band and the hooks and eyes.She pulls it inward and then loose, and Castiel sighs.

She slips out of the bra from there, and her breasts fall loosely against her chest. Round and large.

She turns around, and her hair falls just below her nipples, covering the points of them but leaving the dark pink areola exposed.

Dean’s stomach falls. She feels herself grow quite warm.

Cas smiles again before tucking the bra back into her bag and slipping out of her underwear.

Dean has to hold eye contact with her, because if she doesn’t she knows she will fall to her knees and bury herself between Castiel’s pale legs, tongue in her warm cunt.

“Dean,” Cas says. Her voice is low and a little scratchy, like maybe Jimmi was a smoker. “Please. I don’t know how many more hints I can possibly drop.”

Dean sighs happily and kneels down.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Sam has brown hair like a waterfall around her tan, pointed face. Her features are aquiline- long, pointed noise, pointed chin, foxy eyes. Her skin is more deeply tanned than Dean’s or Cas’s is. She calls to mind the color and texture of fine earth, red brown and lovely.

She walks into the bedroom, and sees them and shouts, “Oh god, I’m sorry!”

Castiel is leaning against the cool white tile of the bathroom wall. Naked, all except for the bandage on her knee. Dean kneels before her still completely clothed and she pulls away from Castiel’s crotch to look at Sam, green eyes wide and lips bright red and wet.

They’re both flushed and sweating- glowing.

“No,” Cas pants. “No, please, Sam.”

Dean looks up at Castiel and she says, “No, please, Sam, what?”

Casitel looks down at Sam’s sister and she runs her soft white fingers along the long line of Dean’s cheekbone. “Don’t go,” she says. “Neither of you. Please, don’t go.”

“What?” Dean and Sam say, simultaneously.

Castiel looks so pretty. Her chubby cheeks are blushing, her well padded arms are crossed over her lush bosom, her round legs are spread wide. She’s so curved and thick- not like Sam or Dean, who are stringy and drawn out. Sam feels that familiar desire in the heart of herself, that deep tingling that wants Castiel, wants to get lost in her soft arms and pillowy breasts.

Dean looks at Sam and blinks. Her long lashes fall over her freckled cheekbones and dart back up like the rays of a saint’s halo. She bites one of her lips- the only part of Dean’s body Sam would ever call geneous. She looks back up at Castiel like a supplicant before some perfect god and says, “Can we move to the bed? My knees are killing me.”

Castiel smiles, her red mouth making her cheeks dimple slightly. “Of course,” she says.

Her hips sway as she pulls Dean with her to the bed. She tugs Dean gently up with her, up her left side, leaving the long right side of her open. She looks almost like an odalisque. Too long, too lush, too sensual, too real. She looks over to Sam and says softly, “Please.”

Sam closes the door outside behind herself, and she slips into the close space of their room.

“Um,” she says, “can I?” She gestures to her clothes.

Castiel smiles. “Only if you’d like to.”

Sam’s legs stretch out below her long and and thin as she unbuttons her pants and lets them pool at the floor below her. She slips out of her button down plaid shirt. She stays in her deep green underwear and grey tank top. Sits down on the bed next to Castiel, who twines her fingers in Sam’s hand.

“So pretty,” Castiel murmurs as she noses into Sam’s clavicle. “My pretty, pretty girls.”

Sam finds herself sighing into Castiel’s long hair. She hasn’t been this close to someone since the fire- since Jess died and she was left so alone. Castiel smells soft and good. She smells washed- like baby shampoo and conditioner and hotel room soap. She feels soft, too. Her skin is unblemished and smooth under Sam’s scarred hands. Cool and doughy. Heavy. Dear.

Castiel guides Sam’s hand over the deep valley between her hips and torso to her back. Sam feels the heat of her sister’s body along the back of her hand, and then she feels Dean’s own calloused hand reach out and connect with her arm.

Dean can’t quite make eye contact with her, but she looks almost innocent there, on the other side of Castiel. Like a little girl who’s been caught.

Sam studies her sister’s face. Her mother’s features are more clearly written in her than they are in Sam, or at least what Sam has seen of their mother in photographs. There’s the shape of her eyes maybe, or maybe it’s something about her mouth. Dean’s more beautiful than Sam is, at least conventionally. She could model if she really wanted to. There’s something effortless to her, natural and golden and bright. Dean glows in the light, and she glows here, framed between the light of the bathroom and the messy curled darkness of Castiel’s long hair.

Castiel turns over and kisses Dean, long and slow. She reaches blindly over for the collar on Sam’s tank top and tugs her over and through space, and then pulls away from Dean’s mouth. She kisses Sam now. Her lips are soft and red. The whole kiss feels loose and heavy and soft.

Dean whimpers behind them, like she is lost. She lean into Castiel’s body and kisses and sucks and bites at her neck. Castiel cries into Sam’s mouth, gasps into the sensation.

“Dean!” she cries out.

“Cas,” Sam answers.

“Sam,” Castiel replies. She stops kissing and pulls away from Sam’s face. Looks at her with her bright blue eyes. She sits up, which is hard on their crowded bed. She moves to the other side of Sam’s body, now on the outside of the bed. She looks down at Sam- naked and flushed. “So beautiful,” she says. “Dean, please...please.”

Dean looks at Castiel, and then she looks at Sam.

It’s like she understands something, suddenly. She looks at Sam, and there’s something in her expression that shifts. She looks at Sam like she’s the whole world, like she’s a treasure. She looks back at Castiel, asking. Heart breaking.

Castiel tilts her head slowly. It is a gesture of incredible pity, of compassion.

Dearest, it reads, you’re down the road, you’re here. Step through the door, you’re home.

Dean looks nervous for the first time in years- nearly virginal- as she leans over and through space into Sam’s face.

Lips parted. Eyes wide.

Asking.

Sam nods. Barely a quirk of her head. Hardly a motion at all.

Dean kisses Sam.

It’s the first time they’ve both been sober and it’s happened. Growing up on the road, all alone, of course there were motions in the dark and whispers. Slurred murmurings. Messy smooches.

This is their first kiss though. Something sweet and new. Sam winds her hands under Dean’s thrift store t-shirt and whimpers into her mouth. She runs her hands over Dean’s chest- her small breasts free of her bra, falling so gently into Sam’s hands.

“Fuck your clothes,” Sam murmurs, pulling away from the kiss.

Dean laughs, almost girlish.

“Let me help with those,” Castiel says.

Sam and Dean both look over at her, an angel in every way imaginable.

“Yeah,” Dean says, nodding. “Okay.”


End file.
